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Dear Reader,

Ages ago I read about a teenage girl being found dead and how, when she remained unidentified, the folks in a small town decided to consider her theirs. If there was any follow-up to the story, I don’t remember it. I have no idea why this particular snippet of a story stuck with me, but it did. Maybe it was ready-made for me. As I’ve said before, I’m always interested in the aftereffects. You know, those ripples spreading outward from an event that might have seemed momentous, or really trivial, but that set something in motion.

In this case, the discovery of this girl is a catalyst in a small town, where a whole bunch of people start wondering guiltily whether they might know something, or might have done something that played a part in her death. Nothing like the uncomfortable tweak of a conscience, and especially when those same people decide to keep quiet!

You may have noticed that I most often set my stories in small towns. The truth is, I’ve never lived in a city. My parents moved often when I was growing up, but even when my father taught at big-city universities (Mexico City College, San Francisco State University), we always lived in a small town. I love going into Seattle, my closest big town, but have chosen small-town and rural life myself. I like the quiet, and as I was raising kids I also liked the sense of community, knowing other people kept an eye out for my kids, too, just as I did for theirs. When everyone knows everyone, though…well, gossip is, in some ways, an indication people are interested in each other and care, but it can also be destructive.

Ripe ground for a novel about secrets… And all the more ironic when the holiday season is upon these characters and they celebrate goodwill toward all even as they bury their own uneasiness.

Please visit my website at www.janicekayjohnson.com! I love hearing from readers.

Janice Kay Johnson

One Frosty Night

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